


fading night

by ILoveItWhenWePlay1950



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Depression, Edward/Bella Switched, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Human Edward Cullen, No one else is switched, Slow Burn (kinda), Trigger Warning: Mild Self Harm, Vampire Bella Swan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveItWhenWePlay1950/pseuds/ILoveItWhenWePlay1950
Summary: Of three things I was absolutely sure. First, Bella Cullen was a vampire. Second, there was a part of her- and I didn't know how dominant that part might be- that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was slowly but surely falling in love with her.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale, Leah Clearwater/Angela Weber
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	fading night

_That day:_

I couldn't see.

Through eyes blurred from tears, through air fogged with smoke, through a mind clogged with emotion, I couldn't see.

I choked down a sob as I saw the last of my father dissipate into the sky.

_The day after:_

I had lived eighteen years, but never had I felt something as strongly as those few emotions I felt when dad died.

_Next week:_

I moved in with mom.

_Sometime:_

Time went fluid. I ate, drank, slept, moped, didn't do anything, didn't say anything, dropped out of school.

Two months later (I'm not sure- it might have been more- or less):

"Don't stand at my grave and weep," I murmured, rocking back and forth on my chair. "I am not there, I do not sleep."

Tears burned under my eyelids.

"You know," said a voice from the doorway, "you'll feel better if you stop thinking of him."

I rounded on my mother, sharp, and perhaps unnecessarily so. "Have you?" I said rudely, not even bothering to wipe off my tears. "Is it working?"

Mom shivered. She was beautiful, even if burdened and grieving. Her prematurely gray hair fell a little short of her neck, framing her angular face. She was tall, taller than me, but I couldn't bother recall the exact height.

I was a burden on her. She deserved to live her life, not to be saddled with a blubbering teenager ten years after her divorce.

"Sweetheart," she whispered, dropping to my height level to make eye contact, "You aren't a burden. I love you- but you know that already, right?"

Right. Yes. My mother was extremely perceptive- something I'd inherited from her- and my thoughts must have shown on my face.

"I know," I muttered. "But you don't like this, me moping around in your house."

"You," she said, giving me a little shake, "are most welcome to do anything in our house. But yes, I do somewhat wish you would try to get on with life. Do you know what he wrote in his will?"

"Why else would I keep reciting that poem?" I demanded, blinking away yet more tears. "Do I look like a guy who randomly brings up death everyday?"

Mom grinned, though I could tell it was strained. "Do not pity the dead-"

"I know," I snapped. "Maybe if you hadn't drilled that into my head since I was about two-"

"Well, the point was for you to believe it!" Mom sounded frustrated, but then, who wouldn't? "Look. It's horrible, what happened to you. To us. I loved him as much as you did- yes, in past tense because he isn't in this world anymore- but I'm moving on! I'm working, because I have to!" She slammed her fist onto my desk. "This is it. You're going to school tomorrow."

I fell out of my chair. "School?" I spluttered. "Tomorrow? I- it's the middle of the semester, mom!"

"Exactly. You've already missed two months and you will not miss more." Her face was set in stone, and I knew I couldn't win this argument.

That didn't deter me from trying.

"Mom," I said slowly, internally trying not to cry, "I'll be too far behind. Just let me wait out this year-"

"You were far ahead of your class in Phoenix. Do you think you'll have any trouble catching up here, in Forks?"

It was true. I knew it.

"But-" I started.

"No buts," Mom said, in a tone that indicated that our argument was over. "You are going to school-"

"Just give me the week!" I shouted, a tear spilling over my face.

"Edward," said mom, smiling a bit, "It's a Sunday. Haven't you been tracking the days?"

"I-" I flopped down onto the bed, dejected. "No, I haven't. Fuck. I'm not ready to do this."

Mom smiled. "Language," she admonished half-heartedly. "You'll never be ready unless you want to be, sweetheart. I'm here for you."

That was when I knew my fate was pre-written and already edited.

...

_The day I finally looked at the date:_

"Mom," I said, pouring my oatmeal into a bowl, "hey, mom, how do I get to school?"

She smiled that secretive smile that always put me on edge. "You'll see. She's outside."

"She- I'm going with a girl?" I felt my mood darken. Against all odds, I'd been excited to go to school. But company? Forget it.

"No," replied my mother, rolling her eyes. "She, as in a car."

"You bought me a car? Which one- is it fast?" In my sudden excitement, I accidentally upended my milk. "Oops."

"No problem," she said easily. "Yes, it's fast- better than that Vo- your last one," she corrected hurriedly.

I won't let anyone insult my dad's precious Volvo. I still had it; I won't let anyone throw it out. Too beautiful memories to discard, too many sentiments attached with the mangled wreck now sitting in a forgotten corner of the woods.

Mom wouldn't understand- she was too practical. Mind, not emotions.

"Thanks," I said hoarsely, realizing mom was waiting for an answer. "That- that's great."

"Do you need something?" she asked, seeming to know I wouldn't like to pursue the issue. "Anything?"

I shook my head and swung my schoolbag onto my shoulder.

...

It was a 2006 Ford GT. Somewhat careworn, but one of the best, fastest, most beautiful cars I'd ever seen. As much as I hated to admit it, perhaps even better than my Volvo.

I stood outside gaping like a dying fish, opening and and closing my mouth repeatedly.

"How?" I blubbered, probably slobbering over my brand new baby. "How- how'd you- this is fucking amazing, mom!"

She just smiled. "Your friend Jacob down at the reservation got it from one of the Cullen girls in exchange for their battered old truck. It just had a broken engine, two busted tires, a dented hood, squeezed up front seat... it was a horrible accident, believe me." She shook her head. "They kept it quiet, but I saw everything. Just- just thank god both of those kids got out alive."

"Who?" I asked, dumbstruck. All I knew- don't ask how- was they were rich, nothing else.

"The Cullens?" Mom guessed. "They're a huge family, moved down from Alaska a couple of years ago." She grinned suddenly. "See? I got you to pay attention to something for once."

"I pay plenty attention to death," I muttered.

...

I'd always hated Forks, but now, I was glad to be away from Arizona's eerily haunting desert lands. There was something beautiful about the way rain masked tears, the way paleness wasn't attributed to illness, just normality.

There was something beautiful about the way everyone knew me but didn't know me enough to ask, to prod, to bring back piercing memories, sharp and painful like a knife to the chest.

My classes went smoothly. I had been one of the top students back in Arizona, and the level was pretty low here anyway.

I excelled in English, as per usual. And though the Geography teacher started with a pop quiz about States and Capitals, which I loathed, he made a good impression on me anyway.

Gym wasn't so bad. We were playing baseball, which was about the only game I was good at, and that was because I was great at running between the bases.

"You know," Mike Newton said, grinning at me, "You could try out for the school team- trials are on Saturday. I'm captain."

"You know what?" I said, probably unexpectedly, "I just might."

...

I walked into lunch right after my first music class. Mike had offered me a seat at her table- the nerd table, she'd called it, with Mike and some other kids who's names I'd forgotten. I accepted, of course, though I'd rather sit alone. I didn't want to seem too rude in the face of this friendliness.

I was ruminating on the non-existence of chocolate chip ice-cream in the desert menu, torn between Butterscotch and Vanilla.

That was when I saw them.

Beautiful, deathly pale faces, perfect hair, the most expensive clothes in the school. So different, yet just the same. Not talking to anyone, barely even eating anything.

There were five of them- two blondes and three brunettes. I immediately sorted them into couples- that much was obvious from the way they acted. The huge curly haired guy and the statuesque blonde beauty, they were the jock and cheerleader type, I could tell. Then there was the small pixie-ish girl and the tall blonde boy who seemed to be related to the other blonde girl- they were the nerd couple, most likely, with a beautiful-but-deadly feel to them.

It was hard to tell who was the most attractive- one of the blondes, I supposed- but my thoughts lingered on the fifth wheel- the cute girl whom I couldn't get a read on, at all. She had long chocolate brown hair and an expression which I instinctively recognized to be an avid readers. I didn't know why I was compelled towards her- she was beautiful, of course, but they all were.

"Who are they?" I hissed to Mike.

He grinned. "Seen the models? They're Dr and Mrs Cullen's kids. The Hale twins- that's the blonde ones- Jasper and Rosalie, I think they're just fostered or something-"

"So's the big curly haired guy, Emmett," said another girl. Jessica, I remembered. "I think Alice- the pixie- was adopted, and I'm pretty certain Bella's their real kid, but I'm not sure. It's hard to keep track of these things."

"And they're all together," the girl named Angela informed me. "Jasper and Alice, I mean, and Rosalie and Emmett."

I was right, then. I often was. But that wasn't the question on my mind. "What about the last one- Bella?" As I watched, she raised her eyes at me, and then just as quickly, looked back down at her non-existent lunch.

"She's single," said Mike, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. "But don't bother, she doesn't date."

Lauren sniffed. "I think she's gay," she said snottily.

"So?" Jessica fired back. "Any problems with that?"

"I wish Alice was gay," Angela Weber said dreamily. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw Emmett laugh while Jasper ground his teeth.

I regarded Angela out of the corner of my eye. She didn't look it, but she was pretty sharp. She broke up Jessica and Lauren's fight before it escalated, and in a way no one could suspect her motives.

Mike smirked.

I was summarily informed that Angela was 'unconditionally and irrevocably' in love with Alice, and I shouldn't be going down the same path.

To my own chagrin, I blushed. "I don't date much," I said, reminded, with a pang, of the similar talk my father and I had last year. "And Alice doesn't seem my type anyway."

"I should hope not," Mike muttered. "That guy Jasper- he looks like he'll kill anyone who gets near his precious girl."

"He beat back Austin once," Jessica said conversationally, the almost-quarrel with Lauren forgotten. "Well, both of them did. Even I could see he was getting too annoying."

Eric grinned. "Believe me, it was amazing. Almost worse than that time Samantha hit on Emmett- oh, boy, that was the greatest thing thing I'd ever seen."

I smiled, tuning out the rest of the conversation. As much as Jasper and Alice interested me, I was intrigued by the thought of someone else. When I turned to look at her, I found Bella Cullen was staring at me too.


End file.
